


Stalling

by Snow Batter (01101000)



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Glory Hole, Other, Starts Off Consensual, Tentacle Dick, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 12:10:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11554932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/01101000/pseuds/Snow%20Batter
Summary: The Batter tries to earn some extra credits in zone 3, and gets into a very strange encounter with a hole in a wall.





	1. Chapter 1

The Batter silently followed Zacharie through zone 3.  It was dark, and there was nobody else around to be seen, not even any specters.  The empty buildings were boring, but Zacharie was explaining them anyway.

“--used to be the residential district, until everyone moved into the factory barracks. Then it became abandoned,” Zacharie laughed, “Well,  _almost_ abandoned.”  That was obvious, the Batter thought, considering where they were going.

“And I get credits for this?” the Batter asked.

“Yes, my forgetful friend, you do,” Zacharie replied, “And then you give them to me, in exchange for goods and services.”  The Batter nodded.  He trailed Zacharie into a large building, down several halls, as the merchant-guide narrated their surroundings.  Zacharie flicked a switch, and lights came on in the room before them.  A long row of narrow doors, at least a dozen, jutted out from the wall.  It looked a lot like a bathroom, but it was too clean, and there were no sinks or urinals.

Zacharie trotted over to a door and pulled it open.  The Batter peered inside.  It was dull green in there, and  _tiny;_  it looked about two feet across on each side, but was probably even smaller than that.  But what stood out the most was a single circular hole carved into the wall to his right, wide enough to slip a hand through.

“The employees in zone 3 sometimes come back here,” Zacharie purred.  “They used to frequent this place far more often, but with it being so  _far away_  now, it’s become quite rare. Kind of a shame, if you ask me.”

“When do I get paid?” the Batter asked.

Zacharie laughed.  “Eager, are we? You’ll receive the money once the two of you are done. You’ll both be left undisturbed until the lucky one you’re servicing has wrapped up, and then you can come out any time you like and collect your credits.”

“Okay,” the Batter nodded.

“Now,” Zacharie said, “They wrote that they wanted you to face the wall  _away_ from the hole, and then you’ve just got to line your rear up with--”

“I know how these work,” the Batter interrupted.  Zacharie stepped back, shutting his trap and raising his hands innocently.

“ _Well_  then,” Zacharie said.  “However, if I may suggest something, you might want to leave your shoes and trousers outside the stall. They never get  _too_ messy, but it means less to wash up, afterwards.“  The Batter nodded, and Zacharie turned around while he undressed himself from the waist down.  The Batter carefully set his bat down on the floor beside the pile of clothes, and stepped into the stall.

“I’m ready,” he said, covering himself with the door.

“Splendid,” Zacharie said.  He pushed the door closed, and the Batter heard it click.  “They should be here any minute now, so make yourself comfortable. I’ll see you later.”  And with that, Zacharie left.  The steps of his tiny feet faded away, and the Batter was left alone.

He looked around the stall.  It was well-lit, having its own light on the ceiling.  He noticed metal bars lining some parts of the walls, horizontal, sticking out just enough to grab onto.  So, this was how people in zone 3 used to get their kicks?  Whatever.  At least it wasn’t sugar.

He didn’t normally partake in such activities himself, but when there was a direct benefit involved as a result, things were different.  He was getting credits, and more of those meant a faster end to his quest.  It was even more in his favor that his partner wouldn’t be able to see him; he wasn’t all that fond of being seen naked, so it was really going to work out for him.

The Batter turned his back to the hole and spread his feet apart.  He arched his back, keeping himself steady with a hand against the wall in front of him, and presented himself to the hole.  He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait, but he was ready.

A click sounded in the adjacent stall, and the Batter tensed.  That was peculiar, he hadn’t heard anybody walk in.  He shook off the thought quickly, and reminded himself that it would be over and done quickly, and he could get his credits and get back to purifying.  All he had to do was hold still and let them have their fun, and he’d be on his way.

The Batter felt something cool lightly brush against his thigh.  He stiffened, but didn’t flinch, keeping his legs adequately spread.  It touched gently around near his entrance,  _cold_  and  _wet_  and  _liquid_ , caressing the folds.  He shuddered, feeling blood rush to his cheeks.  It felt awfully strange, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched there, if ever.

Suddenly, that coolness stroking him angled and thrust itself deep inside him; before he could even react, it twisted, as if screwing itself in even deeper, and began thrusting.  It pushed and rubbed hard against his walls, twirling as it pounded into him, and the Batter gasped.  He braced his forearms against the wall in front of him.  Whoever it was, they were so soft yet so firm and so  _chilly_  inside him.  The coldness alone seemed to penetrate all the way up into his stomach, making everything else so, so hot and making him shiver in cold and pleasure.

The Batter pushed his arms harder against the wall, unwittingly shoving himself harder onto his unknown partner.  They swirled and swelled inside him, thrusting faster, and the Batter cried out, gasping for air.  The sounds of it grinding into him were shamelessly wet, and he already felt liquid running fast down his legs.

The Batter moaned, and it kept thrusting even as he came.  The thrusts rocked his hips in time with the waves of warmth crashing through him, and he pressed the side of his face hard into the metal wall.  He breathed out shakily as the sensation dulled into a more vague pleasantness, and closed his eyes for a moment.

Through the daze, the Batter noticed his partner had slowed down a bit.  They must have noticed him come, then.  He wondered why they were still going.  Ah,  _they_  must not have come yet, he realized.  How long would they take?  It still felt good, but he was curious as to when he could get back to business.  The Batter opened his eyes.  Even if he looked back, he couldn’t see them.  The exchange was visually anonymous, but there was no rule against talking, right?

“Who are you?” the Batter asked.  His voice came out much more languid than he intended, still all soft from the orgasm.  If they heard him, they didn’t respond.  The only sound they made was the quiet sound of their member pushing in and out of the Batter.

Well.  He supposed it  _was_  kind of silly to expect them to answer that one.  The Batter sighed, his mind wandering back to the organ working between his legs.  The feeling wasn’t bad, but it was still  _weird;_  all swirly and chilly and wet.  The Batter knew he was no expert on sex, but he was  _pretty sure_  dicks didn’t normally feel like that.  
Not that he cared, but the Batter was certain they wouldn’t mind if he used his hand to check them out.  He took his right hand away from the wall and brushed his fingertips against its flesh.  The skin was thin and soft, and felt cool and moist to the touch.  He reached his hand back further, trailing it closer to the hole.  The Batter sighed in pleasure as it rubbed into a sweet spot in response to his stroking, but kept focused.  He pressed his thumb into its length, and there was a surprising amount of give-- almost as though it were full of jelly.

At that moment, a chill (not a pleasant one) went up the Batter’s spine.  An alarm went off in the back of his head, and suddenly the organ inside him was far too alien and the liquid on his legs was cold as ice.

“ _What_  are you?” the Batter asked.

It didn’t answer him.  It thrust hard into him again, even wetter, and he felt it coil in his hand.  The Batter jumped and whipped around.  He at once smacked into the wall, but whatever the hell was in the other stall was out of him.  He looked down at what of his ‘partner’ was poking through the hole, and groaned in disgust.

It was a long, translucent, white tentacle, flattened and shiny, like a slug.  It writhed and thrashed in the open air, and knowing that that thing had been  _inside him_  made the Batter glad he hadn’t eaten anything that could be thrown up beforehand.  That wasn’t human, wasn’t pure at all.  He had to destroy it  _immediately_.

The Batter readied to fight it, but something horrible dawned on him:  _he’d left his bat outside the stall_.  It wasn’t outside arm’s reach, but there was barely a half-inch of space under the door.  He looked up, and the walls and door of the stall reached all the way to the ceiling, so he couldn’t vault over them.  The room was too narrow for his Add-Ons to fit inside of, either.  He was completely unarmed.

The tentacle’s aimless writhing stopped and it twisted over in the Batter’s direction, trying to reach him again.  The Batter snapped his legs shut and flattened himself against the wall, but the room was just too small to really avoid it.  He extended a hand to grab and shove it back, but it slipped right out of his grip.   _Damn it,_  he’d have to run away.  The Batter ran his hand over the door and froze.

There was no handle on the inside.

“Zacharie!” he shouted, banging his fist against it.  The door didn’t budge, and he knew there wasn’t enough space for him to kick it down.  “Let me out of here!“ he yelled.  The merchant didn’t answer, and the Batter’s face burned with anger.  Zacharie was probably just out of earshot, but it still pissed him off.

The tentacle stretched over and slipped its tip between the tiny triangle of space between the Batter’s crotch and thighs.  It wasn’t long enough to get inside him from there, but it was long enough to reach and stroke him where he was even  _more_  sensitive.

 _“No,”_ the Batter snapped, shoving one hand down to block the tentacle and using his other to bang against the door.  “Stop that, I’m done,” he said, before shouting “Let me out!” at the door, again.

Suddenly, a loud  _WHAM_  came from the other stall, like a huge hand was striking the wall, and it made the room rattle.  The Batter didn’t want to feel so uncomfortable, but he had no weapons and was already pressed as tightly into the other side of the room as possible.  It couldn’t fuck him if he sat down, but then it would reach his  _mouth_   _( **hell no** )_ and he might choke to death on the stupid thing.

The tentacle kept probing the back of the Batter’s hand, attempting to get through the gaps between his fingers and making them all damp.   _Ew_.  The Batter tried and tried to figure out how to escape, but the more he thought about it, the less options there were.  He could tell that it wasn’t going to let up.  It hadn’t said so, but he knew that’s how it was.  
Before he’d entered the stall, Zacharie had told him that he’d be left undisturbed until the Batter’s partner was finished.  It was a dead town, there was nobody around to hear him.  The Batter looked down at the tentacle pushing against his hand.  There was only one way out.

With caution, the Batter slowly drew his shielding hand away from his crotch, bringing it to the wall behind him and spreading his thighs apart just an inch.  The tentacle stretched and immediately began rubbing him.  The Batter looked away, but he already felt his cheeks turning red again.  Its tip was so small, it could stroke inside wrinkles and folds he could never perfectly touch with incredible precision.  It didn’t even have to go further in to make him tingly and wet, it just had to keep touching him right there,  _right there--_

“Fuck,” the Batter hissed.  He didn’t have time for this nonsense.  The Batter stepped towards the hole and planted his feet apart, pressing his hands against the wall.  The tentacle bent and traced its tip around his opening, then quickly slipped inside and began thrusting.

The Batter’s fingers curled against the wall’s surface.  The tentacle slithered inside him, pushing and coiling over itself to to fit more in.  Now that he was  _facing_  the hole, its exposed length was arching itself and pressing against him as it thrusted.  Even as cold and wet as it was, the Batter couldn’t help but breathe hard at the feeling of both his inside and outside being rubbed at once.  It was almost like his partner wanted him to  _enjoy_  the experience.

The tentacle moved faster, pumping itself in and out hard, and the Batter moaned through his teeth.  It showed no sign of stopping, but was already dripping a ridiculous amount of fluid down the Batter’s legs.

The liquid made the sounds of its thrusts louder, and the tentacle swelled inside him.  It was so smooth and so full, and it kept rubbing against him just right and throbbing inside him making him gasp and  _fuck it was too much._

The Batter bit down hard on his lip as he came again.  The orgasm made his entire body shudder and his heart pound against his ribcage.  He held his breath until it stopped shaking him, and slowly exhaled as it fizzled out, leaving him dizzy and barely aware of more than the heat in his face and the cold squirming between his legs.

Damn, was he ready for this to be over.  Surely it couldn’t go on  _too_  much longer.  The tentacle pumped enthusiastically, and the Batter had a feeling it was getting close to finally releasing him.

“Could you...” the Batter muttered, before raising his voice to be heard more clearly, “Could I change my position?”  It’d been pounding him from the behind and the front while he stood, and he wanted to see if things would go faster if he assumed a different arrangement.  
To his surprise, the tentacle stopped thrusting and withdrew a few inches.  Its tip remained just inside him, waiting, and the Batter moved quickly.  He grabbed a bar above him with both hands, and lifted his feet up off the ground.  He braced his shins against the wall, using the traction of his skin and his hands on the bar to keep from sliding down.  He angled his hips, lining his entrance up with the hole.

“Okay,” the Batter said, and the tentacle dove into him eagerly.

It pushed deep, deep inside him, pumping fast, and the Batter squeezed his eyes shut.  It was so thick and firm, stretching him, filling him more than ever before.  The Batter moaned and panted from his place curled up on the wall, the tentacle seeming to melt between his legs, beating like a heart.

He heard drops hitting the floor, the liquid oozing from the tentacle was overflowing him and trickling down.  Peeking his eyes open, the Batter tightened his grip on the bar and made the mistake of glancing down.

There between his legs, he saw the tentacle buried in him.  It was swollen up far thicker than it had been before, glistening and round, stuck in as deep as it could go.  It undulated, pulsing as it swirled.  What tiny space in the Batter it wasn’t taking up was filled with liquid, and it sloshed and squelched as its spiraled girth coiled against every millimeter.

It was already too intense just feeling it inside him, and he averted his eyes from the pulsing tentacle.  It was still cold, too cold, but the Batter was too overwhelmed to hold back his moans anymore.  He kept his hips as still as he could with it hammering him, its movements getting faster and faster.

Its throbbing and squishing grew unbelievably quick, pounding hard.  The Batter clenched his teeth.  He couldn’t take it if it went on like this, his head was spinning and his legs were trembling.  The tentacle thrusted into him one last time and clenched hard, going from soft to solid in an instant.  A low, hissing noise came from the other stall as it finally finished inside him.  The Batter tipped over the edge and came again, arching his back with a shriek.

The tentacle remained hard in the Batter for several seconds.  He was breathing harshly, staring at the ceiling, sweat beaded on his face and under his clothes.  The tentacle loosened, gradually softening up and shrinking back.  It carefully withdrew itself back into the hole, leaving the Batter empty and freezing.

Was it over?  The Batter looked down again, and the tentacle was gone.  He could see nothing but darkness on the other side of the hole.  The Batter swallowed and curled his toes, sliding his legs down the wall back down to the ground.

The floor was wet under his bare feet.  He took a shaky step back as he let go of the bar, and all but completely fell over.  He was shivering all over, and he braced his hands against the walls, carefully slipping down into a sitting position.  He had to bend his legs almost to his chest in order to sit down at all, and leaned back.  The Batter lowered the bill of his cap over his eyes.  

His legs were soaked, and he couldn’t close them together.  The space where the tentacle had filled him was still gaping, and soreness was starting to set in.  He grimaced and settled for covering himself with his hand.

The Batter was tired.  He didn’t want to sleep, he was too on edge, but he was  _tired_.  He looked at the floor.  His shadow was filling most of it, but what he could see looked awful slippery.

He felt as though he was either going to pass out any second or jump ten feet in the air.  Dimly, he noticed a white light glowing outside from under the door, and heard a  _click_.  The light silently moved away from the door, now unlocked, and was gone.

The Batter tried to think.  He couldn’t bring himself to walk, and didn’t want to get caught by anyone in such a pitiful state.  He pressed himself into the corner as best as he could manage, and closed his eyes.  He sighed.  He had to get back to purifying, but he first needed a couple of minutes to rest before he could do anything.


	2. (epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote and finished this _immediately_ after writing “Stalling” but I couldn't come up with a good title for it, so I procrastinated on posting it.  
>  THEN I posted it as its own separate sequel fic but soon decided that wasn't a very good idea, so now it's here again tacked on as an optional bonus chapter. Read it or not!

The Batter sat on the cold metal floor outside the stalls.  He kept his gaze to the floor.  His lower body ached all over, and he couldn’t position his sore legs comfortably.  He’d tried to get up and leave the building, but he’d just fallen on his face, so he sat and waited for his strength to return.

At least he had Alpha with him, though.  The Add-On dutifully hovered beside him, keeping a watch out for anything that might try to sneak up on them.  It could be relied upon to defend him in that vulnerable state, too worn out to even put his clothes back on.  The Batter gripped his bat in one hand; mercifully, his arms didn’t hurt, and he clung to the weapon like his life depended on it.

Damn, he felt horrible.  He was nauseous and the pain wouldn’t leave him alone.  It could’ve been ten minutes or ten hours since it'd happened, and he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.  He still felt raw and clammy where it’d tore into him, and he just wanted to calm down already so he could get back to purifying.

But there was no way he could continue if he couldn’t even stand up.

Then, in the distance, the Batter heard footsteps.  He held still and listened as they got closer.  Someone was coming.  His heart started pounding again.  He was unused to being so defenseless, unable to move.  Alpha was with him, sure, but normally he was able to protect himself at least _somewhat_.  His instincts were all screaming ‘DANGER!’ and he couldn't run from it.

He watched, frozen, as the source of the footsteps came into view.  A face, concealed behind a mask crudely resembling that of a cat, gawked at him, and a wave of hatred crashed over the Batter.

 _“Go away,”_  he snarled at Zacharie.  This was all his fault, all his idea.  How _dare_ he come back to mock him in his moment of weakness.  Zacharie didn’t go away, instead making the Batter even angrier by walking _towards_ him.

 _“ **Leave** ,”_ the Batter said.  It was a struggle to get even one word out as more than a growl, he was so furious.  But Zacharie kept approaching, muttering something to himself, and the Batter couldn’t stop shaking.

He was getting too close to him, way too close.  Zacharie was less than ten feet away, and the Batter didn’t even want to be looking at him.  It was too much, too _fucking_ much.  Unable to take it anymore, the Batter hissed and swung his bat at the merchant.  Zacharie squeaked and bolted the other direction.  That’s right, fleeing from light like the cockroach he was.

The Batter scrambled after to teach him a lesson with his bat, but he didn’t make it two steps before his legs crumpled and he fell on his face again.   _Damn it._  He grabbed onto Alpha and pulled himself to sit upright.

* * *

Zacharie caught his breath from behind the row of stalls.  Shit.   _Shit,_ did he ever need to update his background checks.

He’d felt dread nearly knock him over when he’d seen whatever-the-hell that was (how did you even _get_ to look like that?) walk past him to the room with the stalls.  He’d wanted to call it off then, at least go and warn the Batter, but having no attacks _and_ no competences tended to make him... not quite as bold as he needed to be.

Hiding far away from where it happened had made him feel guilty enough, but seeing the results was even worse.  Zacharie forced himself to peek around the corner.  There was the Batter, still crouched on the floor, half-naked.  He noticed Zacharie’s staring and bared his teeth.  Quivering like a leaf, eyes wide, the Batter looked more like an injured animal than anything else.

The Batter had every right to hate him.  It was obvious he wanted nothing to do with him after the mistakes he’d made.  But helping the Batter was his job, and he couldn’t just leave him alone like _that_.  He needed to make reparations in order for either of them to continue.  Seeing that things had turned out even worse than he’d feared, Zacharie knew he unfortunately couldn’t just sit down beside him and calmly talk him out of his current state.

Steeling himself, Zacharie emerged from behind the stalls and cautiously started walking towards the Batter again.

* * *

No, no, no, get away get away _get away_.

The Batter growled as Zacharie started approaching him a second time.   _Fuck off._  Was he stupid?  The Batter just wanted to be left alone while he collected himself, and he couldn’t do that with _Zacharie_ around.

Zacharie was walking slower this time, more carefully.  The Batter could sense the fear coming off of him, and wondered what the hell was compelling the merchant to keep being an annoyance.  Couldn’t he tell that he wasn’t feeling right?!

Zacharie stopped about ten feet away from him, and slid off his backpack.  He leaned over, opening it, and Alpha buzzed a warning at him.  Zacharie flinched, but reached inside anyway.  The Batter watched, confused, as Zacharie pulled a bat from the bag.  What was he trying to do?  Zacharie slowly set the bat on the floor, and pushed it, handle-first, towards the Batter.  When his arm could stretch no further, he drew back, sitting down on his knees beside his backpack.

“We’ve both got to earn our livings,” Zacharie said, “But you need this a lot more than I do, right now.”  The Batter stared at him.  What?  Zacharie was _giving_ something to him?  As in, for free?  The Batter had come to him bleeding and poisoned lots of times, and he’d still always demanded money for even minor items.  The Batter was still angry, but a whole weapon?  What was the catch?

“There’s no catch,” Zacharie said, as if he’d read his mind.  “Take it, it’s yours.”

The Batter stared at the bat on the floor.  It was a metal one, shiny and brand new.  Hesitantly letting go of his current bat, he stretched out and pulled it into reach with his fingertips, and wrapped his hand around the handle.  The Batter lifted the bat and looked it over.  It was a _strong_ bat, much more powerful than his previous one.  He already felt more confident with it in his possession.  He itched to swing it into some specters.

“You and your friend willing, I can escort you somewhere much more pleasant, where you can get yourself cleaned up properly,” Zacharie said, “Once again, this will not cost you a thing.”  The Batter didn’t look at him as he spoke, taking in the words as he stared into his new bat.  He _did_ want to scrub the nasty sensation still crawling on him out of his skin, and get dressed in some fresh clothes...  Alpha hovered close to him, waiting for a command, and the energy radiating off of it was warm and reassuring.

“Okay,” the Batter replied.  He was still wary, but he knew he might change his mind if he thought about it too long.  He at least needed to get out of the accursed building, right then.

Zacharie stood up and walked over with his backpack.  The Batter kept a close eye on him as he circled behind him.  He was mostly harmless, but the Batter still didn’t like looking exposed.

“The money you’ve earned is back here, too,” said Zacharie, “I'll just put all of these into your inventory for you.”  The Batter nodded, glancing over his shoulder to see a white envelope Zacharie had picked up off the floor.  All this trouble, and he didn’t even know how many credits were in there.

“Let’s not waste any more time in this wretched place,” Zacharie said.  The Batter held onto Alpha with one hand, and Zacharie gripped the other, pulling him to his feet.  He leaned against the shorter man, legs shaky, and took a cautious step.  Zacharie and Alpha kept him from tipping over, and they started to walk, and steadily made their way towards the exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zach: Would some weapons of mass destruction make you feel better?
> 
> Bat: ...yeah. >:'(


End file.
